Perhaps the most picturesque figure of this early group was Louis Fasquelle, the first Professor of Modern Languages, whose widely used text-books contributed not a little to the prestige of the University. When he came in 1846, his chair was almost a new field in an American college. Only a single term in French was given at first and in fact neither he nor Dr. Sager, charged with the scientific course, were required to give their whole time to their university work for some years. It is somewhat suggestive too, that both Spanish and Italian were offered in the University before a course in German was announced in 1849. Professor Fasquelle was educated at the famous École Polytechnique in Paris, but was obliged to leave France on account of his participation in the revolutionary movement of that period. As Professor in the University he proved "peculiar, but very learned and efficient." The stories of his difficulty with the English language are many, and most of the classic stories told of various members of the French Faculty by successive student generations were originally told of him. He was the first "infiddle," though he was always punctilious in attendance at chapel, which he adjourned on one occasion because the "praying Professor" did not appear. His "vocabul'-ary" was good, but in the words of the time-honored song, "He went up on his emphas'-is."
The new régime of Dr. Tappan witnessed the establishment of a different tradition. The former deference to denominational precedent was definitely abandoned and increasing stress was laid upon scholarly as well as personal qualifications. The new President took the chair of philosophy left vacant by the resignation of Professor Ten Brook, while the old chair of ancient languages was speedily divided. James R. Boise, Brown, '40, who already enjoyed a growing reputation as a scholar, became Professor of Greek, while the Rev. Erastus O. Haven, Wesleyan, '42, afterward the second President, became Professor of Latin. Professor Boise though of a delicate physique possessed great force and impressed the students with the absolute necessity of getting their Greek lessons, _ruat coelum_. His insistence on discipline and high standards in recitations had a profound influence on the mental habits of those in his classes. Professor D'Ooge, '62, his successor, remarks of him that "probably no teacher of those days got so much downright hard work out of his pupils." Alvah Bradish was also appointed to the chair of Fine Arts at this time, but without compensation, and, though he apparently lectured occasionally, the course soon disappeared from the catalogues, not to be revived for fifty years. The name of the Rev. Charles Fox also appears momentarily as a Professor of Agriculture, a department also destined to quick extinction with his death in less than a year, in spite of the President's best efforts, for the Legislature had already taken the preliminary steps toward the establishment of a College of Agriculture at Lansing.